


Perfect

by FatHobbitLover (orphan_account)



Series: Nearly Okay [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/FatHobbitLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piers has a problem accepting the man that Chris seems to think he is. Short fic, fluffy angst because I have nothing better to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> "You don’t think I’m that strange, you’re so weird-  
> that’s cause you’re so queer,  
> but who’s not these days? 
> 
> So many people say you have it together,  
> but they don’t see you crying in the shower.  
> Bet I can make you better,  
> cause you make me better."
> 
> \- Lana Del Rey

  
  


There are countless things that piss Piers off, but the thing at the top of the list is a bear of a man named Chris Redfield.

Chris is an idiot. 

A real fucking idiot. The way he always buttons his shirt one button off and the fact that he does it on purpose- so that Piers'll have to unbutton the whole thing for him and re-button it properly, smoothing out the creases, fixing the collar- _damn it, Chris, learn to put on a fucking shirt._ The way that he tries to wake up early to make Piers breakfast but just ends up burning the food and ruining the pans and making so much god damn noise that Piers gets up and turns off the fire alarm and opens all the windows to clear the smoke out and soaks the pans in cold water so that they're salvageable- _damn it, Chris, stop trying._ The way that he tells Piers that he's perfect, looking at him like he's the only light in the room, this stupid grin on his face that Piers wants to punch off. _Damn it, Chris-_

Chris says it more often than Piers is comfortable with. 

_Perfect,_ he mumbles in the mornings, one hand stroking through Piers' hair, already mussed up and sticking in all directions. _Perfect,_ he says after work, dragging tired feet through the door to find Piers waiting for him, his hands rubbing at the sore muscles lining Chris's neck. _Perfect,_ he murmurs later that night, Piers' lips on his jaw, his throat, his collarbone. _Jesus. Perfect- you're perfect, babe._

 _It's a problem,_ he likes to say afterwards, grinning that stupid grin.

 _Shut up,_ Piers finally retorts one day, with Chris's hands wandering beneath his collar, Chris's voice breathless in his ear. _God, shut up, why don't you._

Chris pulls back, surprised, then distressed, and Piers feels instantly guilty and hates it. 

_There is not one perfect human being on this planet,_ the sniper snaps. _Everyone is messed up, Chris- you and me especially. There's nothing perfect here, okay, nothing. I am- damn it- I'm screwed to hell. Why don't you wake up-_

Chris's eyes are sad, watching him pathetically. Piers hates that too- how the guy can make him want to put his arms around him and kiss the corner of his mouth and whisper dumb things, things like _beautiful_ and _sweetheart_ and _stay, please._

God knows Chris deserves it. 

But instead Piers throws sharp words and squashes the softness collecting in his stomach. And instead of _beautiful_ he says stupid. Instead of _sweetheart_ he says _idiot._ Instead of _stay_ he says _god damn_ and _go to hell_ and _fuck you, Chris,_ and turns away and kicks at the corner of the table, hard. 

There's a long pause, before Chris finally speaks up.

 _Piers?_ he says hesitantly. 

Never fighting him, standing there and taking it, letting himself be torn to pieces by Piers' own unreasonable anger.

_Shut up._

There's the sound of Chris's boots scraping against the floor, and the boards creaking beneath his feet as he shifts his weight. 

_You are-_ says Chris, and Piers' rage swells. 

_Fucking hell, Chris-_

_-perfect,_ finishes Chris, _because-_

Piers doesn't want to hear it. Doesn't want to hear Chris list off all of the reasons he can think of, making Piers as uncomfortable as he possibly can. Trying to force him to see it from his side, his point of view, even though everyone knows that love is blind- and thank god, or Chris could never love him. He feels his chest tighten and he hates it, even though sometimes he feels like he's running out of room inside to hate.

 _Because- well,_ says Chris. _I guess it's because you're still here._

Piers blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes it. 

_There's a lotta people who...took off, once they figured out what kinda person I was. I was never the kinda guy who could hold anything steady._

_Chris,_ says Piers. _You know this isn't about-_

One-night stands. And the others Chris had dated, who had been intrigued by someone who looked cool and buff and was a military man but who ended up being nothing more than a too-large, clumsy softie, who could never find shoes his size and wore baseball caps inside and who still preferred to drink milk straight from the jug. 

_You're the first one who's stuck around,_ says Chris. _To me, that makes you...a whole lot more important than anyone else._

Piers' harsh words stick in his throat, and he swallows hard.

 _I know it bugs you,_ says Chris. _Sorry. But maybe sometimes you could- could think about what you mean to...other people._

 _And you know...maybe,_ he adds softly, _you could just...you know, remember that, every once and a while._

Piers doesn't know what to say. 

But Chris never asks him to say anything. 

_Perfect,_ Chris breathes the next night, hands running through Piers' hair, lips trailing over Piers' skin, pausing at that spot that Piers' secretly loves, right beneath his jaw. _Jesus, babe- you're perfect._

Piers lifts his head and kisses Chris on the mouth. 

_Look who's talkin',_ he says. _You idiot, Chris._

And Chris grins that stupid grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I've read a lot of fics where Chris tells Piers that he's beautiful, and I've just fallen in love with the idea that Chris sees Piers as this incredible, perfect being. 
> 
> One of the first Nivanfield fics I read was harvincy's work "Not Like This", and if I hadn't been head over heels in love with Nivanfield before, I was after finishing it. It was so fucking amazing and the way Chris was portrayed was just spot on, especially in the scenes where he was trying to convince Piers of the fact that he's beautiful. I love, love, love that fic, and that portrayal of Chris. So yeah, this fic is gifted to harvincy for kind of roping me into the Nivanfield fandom, even if he'll never probably read it. 
> 
>  
> 
> **EDIT: HE DID. ALSDJFLASJGALSF.**
> 
>  
> 
> You should definitely go and read it. Just a warning- it's a pretty mature fic, so keep that in mind before you go.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/569034?view_full_work=true


End file.
